


before your kisses turn into bruises, I'm a warning

by moonmotels



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: F/F, basically they get stoned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 21:40:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21186413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonmotels/pseuds/moonmotels
Summary: 2 witches 1 blunt





	before your kisses turn into bruises, I'm a warning

If Misty tries hard enough, she can squash her romantic feelings for Cordelia down just enough to quiet them to a low simmer. If she let herself dwell on them, took the lid off the figurative pot, there would be no end to this force of emotion so strong it could start wars.

Misty isn’t dumb; she knows Cordelia has responsibilities and things that require her attention. Four months after returning from Hell, she’s really come to feel rejuvenated, like Cordelia’s constant presence throughout the halls has a healing effect better than anything known to man. It’s like she’s a ghost, haunting the four chambers of Misty’s heart and never leaving. If that was true, she’d be the prettiest ghost anyone’s ever seen, that’s for sure.

But now Misty is just so goddamn _ bored _ all the time.

So she busies herself, takes walks through the city, tends to her garden that had been kept by Cordelia, teaches herself new potions in the mornings when the ground is filled with fog and lazy patches of sunlight before the rest of the house is awake.

That’s where she is one morning; the greenhouse, humming along to a Fleetwood Mac vinyl when she hears the back door slam shut and two sets of excited footsteps come running through the lawn and to the patch of grass behind the greenhouse. Misty knew they were up to something, because no one came out back unless they were doing something suspicious. Cordelia’s stiff greenhouse rules usually scared everyone off from using it. If one thing were out of place, it’s probably best that the person who moved it hightail it out of town before catching her supreme’s wrath.

The only person allowed to use the setting as she pleases, though, is Misty.

From behind the thin walls, Misty could make out the hushed whispers as Monica and Alice begin their conversation. 

Alice was fairly new, coming to the academy only a few weeks before Misty returned. She seemed sweet, although a little overwhelmed by a house full of girls all coming into their powers. Misty understood that feeling well. 

Seconds ticked by and the girls were quiet, then Misty suddenly understood exactly why they were hiding behind the greenhouse. 

The pungent scent of marijuana filtered through the air, making Misty laugh incredulously. At least they had the decency to do it outside, sometimes Madison smoked her weed pen in the kitchen, completely disregarding Cordelia banning her to the outdoors.

Misty went to gather her things and leave them to it when she heard her name.

“Have you met Misty? Cordelia’s friend?” Alice asked, her voice already laced with the drug’s potent effects.

_ Friend. _Misty almost scoffs out loud. _ Girlfriend _ would have a better ring to it.

“Yeah, I was around right after she got stuck in Hell or whatever. Why?”

“She just seems cool, that’s all. A little weird. Miss Goode talks about her a lot.”

“Yeah, Cordelia used to go on about her all the time when she was gone. Made us do memorials every year and shit. I asked Zoe one time if they dated or whatever, but she just said it’s complicated and not to bring it up to her.”

This sends a shock wave through Misty. Cordelia made the girls do memorials? For her? A swamp witch who couldn’t even pass the seven wonders? They must have her confused with someone else.

“Wait, so are they not in love? I heard that movie star going around telling people that Cordelia flicks herself off to Misty late at night.” The girls both burst out in hysterical laughter, threatening to expose them to anyone out on the back porch.

Misty frowns. She couldn’t imagine Cordelia ever thinking about her in _ that _way. Even if Misty does think about her like that. Sometimes.

“Nah, I think they’re just like best friends. The memorials were weird though, Cordelia basically cried the whole time and talked about how Misty had such a special gift and that we should always look within ourselves to find our purpose.”

“My only purpose right now is to pass Miss Queenie’s fucking voodoo class. She has been up my ass for two weeks to hand in my project.”

Misty’s whole body trembles with laughter as she dips her feather into the pot of boiling liquid. Queenie is known throughout the house as the strictest teacher, by far surpassing Cordelia and most recently, Myrtle, whom Cordelia had revived for probably the fifth time.

She’d heard enough at that point, finishing her potion and cracking her joints with a soft groan. Her body just hasn’t been the same since returning home. Being hunched over a dead frog for years on end must really take a toll on you. She swung the greenhouse door open, snorting when Alice let out a loud, “Oh, _ shit_.”

“You best not let Miss Cordelia catch ya out here with that,” Misty points to the dime bag in Monica’s lap. 

“We were just, um, holding it for someone.”

Alice chimes in, “Yeah, we would never do any drugs here. Miss Cordelia is kinda scary when she’s mad.”

_ Ain’t that the truth_, Misty thinks, not that she’s ever been on the receiving end of Cordelia’s wrath. She’s not even sure Cordelia could ever be mad at her. That sends a delighted shiver down her spine.

Narrowing her eyes, she decides to have a little fun. She tilts her head to the side and gives her best pout. “So y’all won’t mind if I take this from ya? To make sure it gets in the right hands, of course.”

Monica glances at Alice and nudges her, sharing a wordless look. She stands and hands Misty the weed, giving a quiet, “Sorry,” before tugging Alice away and back into the house. Misty laughs at herself, glad she’s still got charm after her prolonged visit to the underworld. She dangles the bag in her fingers, deciding who she’ll share this with later. Maybe Queenie. Coco, possibly, if she could keep her mouth shut. The last time Misty asked her to smoke a joint with her outside, she’d announced it to practically the entire household by the time Misty was ready. When Cordelia caught wind, she made everyone sit down for a two hour lecture on the damaging effects of drugs and what it does to young forming brains. 

She hadn’t let Coco live that one down.

Strutting back into the house, she makes her way to the kitchen and prepares her usual snack. Today she pulls out a basket of fresh strawberries, a pint of ice cream, and the whipped cream she’d labeled with her name on it. She didn’t care to share her favorite food group items with just anyone. Only Cordelia, when they make ice cream sundaes together on Saturday nights and watch old black & white tv shows. On separate ends of the couch, of course. Misty would never risk letting herself just casually lean on Cordelia’s chest. Even if it did look like the perfect place to rest her weary head.

She’s halfway through the pint of ice cream when Madison skirts quickly around the corner and towards the side door that leads out to the driveway.

“What’s the rush, Hollywood? They finally open up auditions for world’s biggest bitch?”

“Who told you that you’re funny, swampy? You should sue them. I’m getting the fuck out of the house to avoid Cordelia. She’s on a warpath.”

“You break another one of her mirrors during a diva fit?”

“Fuck off,” she snaps, “Some guy called and said he’s backing out of his grant fund for next year so now Cordy needs to find twenty grand if she wants to keep the doors to this academy open.”  
  
  
“Ah, shit,” Misty shifts, now focusing her attention on Cordelia, as if she ever left her mind.

“Yeah, so if you’re feeling so inclined, maybe you could talk some sense into her before she burns this place to the ground. Or you could finally blow her back out, relieve some of that stress for the rest of us.” Madison cocks her head and finishes, “Who knows, maybe she’s got a few tricks up her sleeve. I bet you’d like that.”

“The only thing I’d like is punchin’ that pretty lil face a’ yours in again.” Misty stands and tosses her bowl in the sink, trudging up the stairs towards Cordelia’s office. The loud scoff and stomp of heels leaving the house makes her smug.

Softly, she knocks on the office door. She hears a muffled, “Come in,” and enters to find Cordelia standing tensely at her desk, anger radiating through her small figure as she yells to whomever’s on the other end of the phone.

After a dozen or so unlikely curses coming from Cordelia’s mouth, she tosses the phone on her desk and lets out a groan of annoyance. She drops her face in her hands for a brief moment before standing up straight as if she’d forgotten Misty was here.

“Hi, Mist.”

“Hey, Delia. You doin’ alright?”

“I’m fine, yes. It’s nothing you need to worry about. You have much more important things to focus on.”

All day, every day, the only thing Misty can bring herself to focus on is Cordelia. She can’t tell her that, but instead, “I was just a little worried when you missed our midday snack appointment.” Their daily ritual was usually just Misty eating a snack two hours after breakfast while Cordelia busies herself with cleaning the kitchen or watching as Misty devours half the food cabinet.

“I’m sorry, I really am. It’s just this damn investor pulled back because he read an article on one of those shitty gossip websites that posts backwards information about witch covens.”

Misty reminds herself to ask Zoe how to hack websites later. “It’s okay, darlin’. Is there any way you can talk him out of it? Or find another source of income?”

“Nothing I can see at the moment. We have a small fallback but not enough to keep us afloat through the next year.”

Cordelia flings herself down in her chair with another annoyed grunt. Misty also sets a reminder to familiarize herself on how to rob a bank. “Well, can I help? I can bring you a snack or wrangle Mallory into fixin’ up a potion to get Mr. Investor to change his mind. I did eat all the goldfish, though. And the ice cream.”

The Supreme suppresses a small laugh, touched Misty would consider her needs before considering her own. “No thank you, I’m not quite peckish just yet. I do enjoy your company, though. Feel free to stay, I don’t have another call until 6:30.”

Misty smiles to herself. If she’s good at one thing, it’s spending time in Cordelia’s vicinity. As she makes herself comfortable on the small loveseat across from Cordelia’s desk, she rests her palms on her chest. When her hand brushes against the small baggy she’d stashed in her shirt pocket, she grins wickedly and decides how she’s going to help diffuse the situation.

“Delia,” she starts slowly, gauging if her anger at the situation has fizzled out, “How do you feel about doin’ somethin’ fun with me?”

“What do you mean by fun?” she questions, “I’m not taking another gator tour in your swamp, if that’s what you mean.”  
  
  
The swamp witch rolls her eyes. “Will you just trust me?”

That’s how they find themselves on the back porch swing just as a light drizzle starts coating the lawn with slick rain. Misty sits sideways so she can face Cordelia, putting one foot on the ground to push them back and forth. “If I ask you to do this with me, promise to at least give it a try?”

“It depends on what it is, Mist. I can’t eat anymore of your grasshopper trail mix, I’ve tried too many times.”

“That’s not my fault you don’t have taste. Nah, I just know how to help you relax a little.” She pulls out the weed and flashes Cordelia her best puppy dog eyes. 

“No- Misty, _ no._”

“Please, just this one time.”

“Absolutely not, no. I have responsibilities,” she hisses, “I can’t be seen partaking in illegal activities.”

Misty makes a face at her and Cordelia’s never seen anything so adorable. “It’s literally from the earth, Delia. What’s it gonna do, kill ya? You radiate glowing health, for God’s sake.”

“You don’t make a convincing argument.”

“And you don’t make a fun Supreme.”

The rain started coming down in sheets now, and Cordelia unconsciously moves closer to Misty’s warmth. So close that Misty can smell the shampoo and perfume Cordelia uses. “It’ll make me happy if you do this with me.” She knows it’s a low blow, because Cordelia would lasso the moon down for Misty if it would make her smile. Misty almost feels bad.

Almost. 

Cordelia takes in a deep breath and nods once. “Okay. But you’ll have to talk me through it, I’ve never smoked before.”

“Jesus, I bet you were buckets of fun in high school.” 

Even with the light teasing, Misty is giddy that Cordelia agreed to do this with her. It’s not every day you get your Supreme high for the first time, let alone sit so close you can hear her breath coming out in small spurts. A small part of her feels smug, especially because there’s no way Cordelia would do this with anyone but her.

Two minutes later, she finishes rolling the paper with a flick of her tongue before giving Cordelia the joint and showing her how to hold it correctly. Based on the way Cordelia is staring intently at her lips while they move, Misty’s not sure she’s taking any of her tips in.

“Okay, so what do I do, just suck in?” Cordelia’s hands tremble a little as she examines it. Misty wants to tell her that seeing this side of her makes her heart clench a little. She decides she likes this side of Cordelia. A little carefree, a little loose around the edges. She likes all sides of her, but this one is the best by far.

Her face flushes red at the idea of Cordelia sucking on anything. “Yeah, just inhale real deep and then let it out.”

She watches with wide eyes as Cordelia tilts her head back and closes her lips around the end of the joint, inhaling like it’s not supposed to be the most erotic thing Misty has ever seen in her life. The only thing that should be illegal here is Cordelia’s smirk as she hands Misty back the offending object. “Hm,” she purses her lips and exhales, “That wasn’t so bad.”

Misty lights the end up again with a match, the flame casting an orange and gold glow as the cloudy skies pour more rain down around their covered solace on the porch. Cordelia arrests her fingers mid-air as she goes to drop her hand. “You have such nice fingers,” she comments, like her touching Misty hadn’t done irrevocable damage. Doesn’t she know every touch sends a pang of desire through her body, threatening to send it into overdrive? Doesn’t Cordelia know what it’s like to want someone so badly that a simple connection like this could mean so much?

Sucking in the thick smoke like she’d done this a million times, Misty relaxes back and blows out so it mixes itself with the mist creeping through the yard. “Thanks, darlin’. Not sure what they’re good for. All they do is shove food in my mouth and mix some shit up in the greenhouse.”

Cordelia belly laughs and takes the joint back from her before inhaling twice as hard this time. “I’m sure they’re good for plenty of things.” If Misty’s head wasn’t already swimming, she may have caught the innuendo.

“Maybe so.”

At this point, she grows bold and tucks her feet under Misty’s thighs, mouthing an, “_I’m sorry,_” as it makes Misty jump. Misty immediately eases up, drawing just a little closer, so now they’re shoulder to shoulder and can shelter each other in warmth.

For a while they sit in complete silence, only listening to the sound of rain pouring around them and the symphony of frogs croaking in the yard just beyond their reach. Misty catches Cordelia looking at her from her peripheral.

“What, darlin’?”

“Doesn’t it bother you,” Cordelia speaks slowly, like she’s scared of what will come from her mouth, “hearing the frogs out there? I mean, like-” She gestures wildly with her hands, trying to come up with the right words.

Misty answers her anyway. “Not really, Delia. I’ve come to separate my real life from that filthy rotten classroom. What I did down there,” she sniffles a little at this, and Cordelia grasps her knuckles for comfort. “That ain’t real. It was all a sick joke meant to kill me slowly with every slice a’ that knife.” When Cordelia begins silently crying, Misty is now the one to comfort her. “But bein’ back here, with you, it’s different. The frogs out there are real, livin’ their best little lives in our perfect backyard. I’m real, my powers are real. You’re real,” she finishes, her voice dropping off at the end.

“I am real,” Cordelia shuts her eyes. “And you’re definitely real.”

The haze of the drug makes Misty want to close her eyes and lull her head on Cordelia’s inviting looking shoulder. Instead, she forces apart their slight contact and gives herself the space needed to clear her mind a little. Too much contact with Cordelia and she might actually die. “Hey, tell me about these memorials you held for me.” Her fingertips burn where they mindlessly draw circles on Cordelia’s thigh. She hopes Cordelia feels that same burn, more than anything she’s ever hoped for before.

Cordelia looks caught off guard, like a deer in headlights. “Where did you hear about those?”

Misty didn’t want to get the girls in trouble. She shrugs, “Around the house.”

“Oh,” Cordelia clears her throat, “They weren’t anything extreme. Just a simple service where we talked about you and remembered you fondly.” She wants to add that she did most of the talking and remembering, but she thinks maybe she should wait for the drug to wear off before she starts really opening her big mouth and exposing secrets.

“You did that for me?”

“Well, I missed, I mean- we all missed you, so it only felt right.”

“What did you miss about me?”

Misty has clearly caught Cordelia off guard again.

Even so, her voice is steady as she answers, “Everything. I missed everything about you. Your voice, your laughter, finding your hair everywhere. All of it.”

“I didn’t know you missed me so damn bad.”

“Misty, I don’t know what I would do without you if you leave me again.”

“You’d still be the most powerful witch on earth,” Misty reminds, like either have forgotten her status. It’s hard for her to imagine someone so incredibly important needing her.

“Yes, but I’m nothing without you by my side.”

  
  
Misty curls up within herself and tries to see through the fogginess of her brain. “I’m just a dumb swamp witch, Cordelia. Nothin’ special.” Her words are coming out slow and lethargic, like their incessant need to come tumbling out hasn’t kept her in a constant internal battle.

“Why do you think of yourself like this? Don’t you have any idea how much you mean to our coven? To me?”

“I dunno, Delia, sometimes I just don’t feel like I can really relate with anyone here, you know? Not even Madison, because she’s too busy tryin’ to gain back all her followers online.” Despite the measly joke, Misty frowns.

It might be terrible of her to think, but Cordelia has never thought Misty to be more beautiful. As the sky lit up above them with the first crack of lightning, the flashing colors illuminated her delicate features so exquisitely. She is always beautiful, especially in the early mornings when it’s just her alone at the breakfast nook, and of course during the day as she flits through her activities. But then at night, _ oh _the nights are the worst, because Misty is bare faced and always clad in those adorable sleep shorts. Basically, Cordelia has come to realize she may be in a little over her head.

Literally and figuratively.

“I’d hope you can relate with me, Misty. I will always be here for you.”

Misty eyes her carefully before taking a final hit and squashing the joint. “Do you think you can relate to me a little harder?” With that glint in her eye, there’s no denying what she means. There is a flash of understanding in Cordelia’s own, and then the dam breaks. 

Cordelia practically launches herself at Misty, her body knocking them off the swing and onto the ground with a soft _ oof._ Then they are kissing, Cordelia’s mouth breathing the life back into Misty’s soul. She clutches at strong arms as they wrap around her waist, lifting her from the wet porch floor. There are moans that have no right sounding so alluring as they tumble from Cordelia’s mouth, where Misty can taste the faint trace of weed and her earlier chamomile tea. Misty has never been so content, she thinks. Not when it finally feels like the sun has come up in her body, like a never ending source of warmth and light. Maybe that’s Cordelia. Her sun.

Misty’s hands find themselves tangled in soft blonde waves, cradling both sides of her head. In all her greatest fantasies, they’d never taken into account how good it would feel to touch Cordelia. In these fantasies, she’d only let herself imagine the way Cordelia might taste, or how good her fingers would feel inside of her. Never once could they have conjured up the decimating rush of desire that came just from feeling Cordelia’s body in her hands. Their kiss, though, is everything she’d ever dreamed of. Slow, sensual, mostly just lips brushing lips between roaming touches and quiet pants of lust.

Pulling away from the kiss, wet lipped and shuddering, Cordelia stops her. “I don’t want to push this. Push you,” she says. There’s a soft whine from her when Misty escalates the situation and suctions her mouth to the hollow of her throat, and they both know damn well there will be a mark to hide in the morning. One hand slips under the fabric of Cordelia’s _ damn _blouse and pinpoints her nipple in zero time. She flicks it once, then when Cordelia’s body reacts gloriously, she does it again.

Repeatedly circling around the hardened nipple, Misty leans in and ghosts her lips across Cordelia’s cheek. “What if I wanted you to push me a little?”

There is a sigh that comes out in a loud huff, and Cordelia captures her lips once more. Her eyes are hooded as she tries to focus on the woman in front of her, asking for something they both knew they needed. “I can do that, then.”

In less time than it took to blink, they are transmuted to the greenhouse, where there are pillows spread on the rarely used bench. If all goes to plan, Cordelia may be using said bench more often. She wastes no time pushing Misty gently on her back atop the soft surface. Her hands begin their wandering, finally getting the full experience of the woman below. When they find the waistband of a long skirt, Misty nods excitedly without even being asked. Cordelia snaps the band once to tease, but as Misty’s whine grows needy, she pulls it down all the way.

Yanking at her hips so that she hung off the bench, Cordelia sucks in a deep breath at the glistening skin in front of her. “Tell me you want this and it’s not just the drugs talking.”

“I want this,” Misty whimpers as she drags her bottom lip between teeth, “I want _ you_.”

When Misty looks at her like _ that_, the fire inside her implodes and the only way to put it out is through the salvation between her legs. Her lips come to rest on Misty’s hip bone, periodically peppering kisses down where it was wetter, then once over Misty’s clit in a gracious show of leniency.

At the first press of her mouth, Misty digs her heels into Cordelia’s back and wails. “Please,” she begs.

Two fingers enter her slowly, immediately combing over the most sensitive spot. Her tongue drags up over her clit and lays there, wanting Misty to do more than beg. She knows she can.

“Delia,” Misty spits out, and her eyes are dark and full of mirth, “Quit playin’ and fuck me like you mean it.”

There it is.

Cordelia’s fingers begin pounding harder, her tongue rolling broad strokes over and over until Misty is yelling, raising her hips, and finally coming on a loud groan. She clenches around Cordelia’s fingers and suddenly Cordelia feels otherworldly, like she’s just done the world a great justice by fucking an actual goddess.

She pulls her digits out slowly, sucking them in her mouth and groaning in delight at the taste. “Jesus, Mist.”

Misty has flopped her head off the other side of the bench, her chest rising and falling rapidly. “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, more like it,” she laughs breathlessly. “Why didn’t we do that sooner?”

Cordelia feels a stab of arousal at the lust lacing Misty’s tone. “I don’t know, but we’re here now.” Misty catches the hint, and roughly forces Cordelia to stand so she can rid her of her clothes. Standing there in the black lace bra and matching thong, Misty runs her hands over the swell of her ass before smacking it once to measure her reaction. Kissing down her abdomen, she glances up at Cordelia, who is watching her like a hawk.

“Have you ever thought about this? Letting me take you?”

“Every night when I get in bed, I think about you. I think about getting you off and vice versa. You have no idea how wet it makes me.”

“Guess you don’t need to imagine it anymore.”

  
  
“Guess not.”

Misty has Cordelia straddled above her in record time. At the enticing sight hovering just out of reach, she forces Cordelia’s hips down and swipes her tongue up her length just lightly enough to make her buck down. Feeling Cordelia’s wetness on her mouth and chin emboldens Misty, and she sets to diligent work, licking her tongue over and over the slick skin.

On top of her, Cordelia is virtually rendered useless as she chokes back sobs and gasps. Misty suctions her mouth over Cordelia’s clit and she nearly topples over, smacking a hand down on the armrest for balance. Her other hand caresses Misty’s head, brushing hair out of eyes as she whispers filthy, filthy words of praise.

When Misty flicks her tongue out and simultaneously rubs at her nipple, Cordelia is a complete and utter goner. She rocks back and forth on Misty’s face, riding out the waves as best she can while her legs spasm on either side of the bench. When the pleasure finally dissipates, she corrals Misty into her arms and licks away the wetness shining on her chin. Misty closes her eyes and relishes the feel of Cordelia holding her like she’s made of glass and could break.

“Is it going to be different now?”

  
  
Cordelia lovingly wraps a blanket around them so they don’t catch a chill. “What do you mean, different?”

“Is this- are you,” she fidgets with the hem of the blanket. “Was this a one time thing?”

“I don’t want it to be, unless you do. I’m not in the business of forcing you into anything.”

“What if I want this to happen all the time? Not- _ this_,” she specifies, “But bein’ with you intimately in other ways?”

“I can make it happen,” she replies assuredly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I think I kind of love you, Misty Day,” she feels confident enough to admit.

“I think I kinda love you too, Cordelia Goode.”

“You know what else I’d love?”

  
  
Misty snuggles into her arms, only able to feel utter euphoria. “What’s that?”

“That snack you promised.” As if on cue, her stomach grumbles.

“Yeah, baby, I can do that. I think I can do a lot of things for you.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> britt & alyx made me do it. i love u stupid bitches with my heart.
> 
> twitter: moonmotels1


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